Sport

Harry’s gone for placement, dishin’ out the medicine,
Nation’s in the basement, despairin’ at the government,
The man in the waistcoat, looks out, jumps up,
Shoulder’s feeling pretty rough, readjusts his shirt cuffs.

You’re out, kids, but look what you did,
God knows when you’ll be doin’ it again,
Approached it the right way, makin’ lots of new friends,
Man in an England cap in the Wig and Pen
Goes and turns the sound down: that’s enough, thanks, Glenn.

Stones rocks, shirt red, Maguire leaps, big head,
Trippier in the heat puts balls in the box but
Think about how you play, don’t give the ball away,
The people in the pub say Raheem’ll score one day.

You’re out, kids, but look what you did,
Walk on your tip toes, tuck in your elbows,
Watch out for the long throws, dictate how the game flows
Keep the door closed, confidence grows,
It helps to have a proper plan and know which way the kicks go.

You’re out, kids, but look what you did,
Don’t hide down a manhole, think of all you handled,
Avoidin’ all the scandals, leadin’ by example,
Now see what you’ve begun, it’s time to move on,
Hard work, teamwork, relightin’ the candle.

Like this:

Our Federer, which art in Henman,
Lew Hoad be thy name;
Billie Jean Kingdom come;
thy Wimbledon,
in earth as it is in Henman.
Give us this day our Perry, Fred.
And forgive us our Samprasses,
as we forgive them that Sampras against us.
And Lloyd us not into tense tie-breaks;
but Rod Laver us from Ivanisevic.
For Billie Jean is the Kingdom,
Evonne Goolagong and the Cawley,
for Evert and Evert.
Amen.